The Honored Dead
by usa123
Summary: Memorial Day is always hard for Wyatt. This year, he has his new team to help him through it. Spoilers for 1x5, The Alamo.


**I posted this to Tumblr on Monday but didn't have time to really edit it until today. I hope you enjoy all the same.**

* * *

Now that the Time Team's trips were becoming more frequent, it was decided that they were going to need regular physicals to which their pre- and post-mission checkups could be compared. The hope was that this would allow the medical team to spot any irregularities sooner rather than later.

Given that today was the last Monday of the month, Lucy drove to Mason Industries at 1 PM to be poked, prodded and examined.

There was something...different...about today though. She had this niggling feeling in the back of her mind, like she was forgetting something. Unfortunately, she didn't have much time to contemplate it as she was already running late.

She swiped her ID then entered the medical bay to find Rufus already there, pressing a small square of gauze against his inner elbow.

After they'd greeted each other, Lucy sat down beside him and asked, "They started with Wyatt this time?"

"Nope," the pilot replied, shaking his head for emphasis. "Haven't seen him yet."

Lucy whipped around to face her friend as the uneasy feeling in her stomach ratched up a notch. "That's unusual, right? I mean, he's usually the first one here."

"Maybe he decided to sleep in."

"I doubt it." Lucy quickly pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed Wyatt's number but her call went straight to voicemail.

"Maybe he's on a flight?" Rufus suggested after Lucy told him what had happened. "He could have finally decided to take a vacation." Judging by the way Rufus winced after he said it, however, he knew that was highly unlikely.

"You ready Rufus?" a third voice asked. The two time travelers looked up to see Dr. Bright standing in the hallway that led to the examination rooms. Her blond hair was braided along her hairline like a crown and her normally brown scrubs were lime green.

"You haven't heard from Wyatt by any chance?" Rufus asked as he stood up.

Dr. Bright looked up from her tablet, briefly surprised by the non-standard query. "Not at all. I take it he's not here then?"

"No, not yet."

"Maybe he's just running late. That does happen to us mere mortals," Dr. Bright tried to deadpan but the effect was lost when one corner of her mouth twitched upward.

"It's possible," Lucy agreed absently though her words rang just as hollow as Rufus's had.

The pilot turned back to face Lucy, his expression as uneasy as she felt. "We can't always assume the worst. But, if we don't hear from him by the time we're done, we'll look into it."

Lucy nodded her agreement but once Rufus was out of sight, she sent Wyatt a quick text asking him to call one of them ASAP.

* * *

"Anything?" Lucy asked seventy minutes later as she stepped back into the waiting room.

Despite having finished his physical half an hour prior, Rufus was still sitting there, typing furiously on his phone. "No," he replied, his eyes never leaving his device.

"What should we do?"

"I'm already doing it."

Lucy sat down beside Rufus and watched the tech's fingers dance around his smartphone.

"He's in San Diego," the pilot announced a few minutes later. "At…a bar?"

Then the pieces clicked in Lucy's head. Due to the nature of their job, time didn't flow in quite the same exact cadence as it used to. The separation between a weekend and the work week had blurred into practically nothing and Lucy found surprised more often than not by holidays or other annual events. Which was why she hadn't consciously realized today was Memorial Day until Rufus had mentioned where Wyatt was.

They'd never talked about what she'd overheard Wyatt tell Bowie—she wasn't even sure if Rufus knew. If she had realized what today was earlier, Lucy might have said or done something to try to make it less painful. But she hadn't and there was nothing to do now but make sure he was okay.

"We're going to San Diego," Lucy stated, her tone leaving no room for question.

Rufus nodded his agreement then said, "I might have something that can help."

* * *

Somehow Rufus managed to convince Mason to let them use his private plane and, just under two hours later, they were touching down decently close to their intended target. A car was already waiting and a well-dressed man handed Rufus the keys the moment they deplaned.

"What exactly did you tell Mason?" Lucy couldn't help but ask as she ran her hand along the real leather seats.

"Don't worry about it," Rufus replied, sliding the key into ignition and peeling out of the airfield.

* * *

Twenty minutes after that, they were stepping through the entrance of the brewery Wyatt's phone had last pinged at. He was sitting at the bar itself, nursing a drink.

Lucy slid into the seat next to him then softly asked, "Are you okay Wyatt?"

It took the soldier a moment to look over and another minute to recognize her. "Lucy!" he exclaimed drunkenly. He then whirled around in his seat, almost falling off before he managed to grab the bartop, and grinned widely when he saw Rufus as well. "What're you doin' here?" he asked as he used a hand-over-hand method, like one would use on a teacup carnival ride, to spin himself back toward the bar.

"Checking on you."

Wyatt's smile increased in size as he lilted to the right. Lucy reached out to catch him but he shot back to vertical before her help was necessary. "'m good."

"How many has he had?" Lucy heard Rufus ask the bartender, while she took in Wyatt's appearance. Though his eyes were bloodshot and he smelled like a distillery, he seemed physically fine.

"Practically the whole bottle," the bartender, whose name badge read 'Ryan the Awesome', said. "He does this every year though."

"He _what_?"

Ryan shrugged. "It's a tough day for all of us around here. Don't worry—we keep a good eye on him. We let him do his thing then he stays with one of us for the night."

"Oh Wyatt," Lucy breathed but the soldier was no longer paying attention to her and was focused on another long pull of his drink.

"How much does he owe?" Rufus asked as he pulled out his wallet.

Ryan just shook his head and even held up a hand to fend off Rufus' credit card. "Nothing. After all he's done for our freedom, we don't accept his money today."

Rufus and Lucy exchanged a quick glance before the pilot fished out a twenty and slid it across the bar. "For watching out for him. We appreciate it."

Ryan looked reluctant but did eventually pocket the money. "It's the least we can do," he said before turning to tend to the rest of his customers.

With that taken care of, Rufus and Lucy now turned back to Wyatt.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Lucy asked softly. "We would have done whatever we could have to help."

"Can't bring them back," Wyatt mumbled. "Nothing more to do."

"Wyatt…"

The soldier's eyes unfocused and he pointed at a framed picture on the wall. "Used to come here all the time. The six of us." Lucy and Rufus got up from their barstools and walked over to the picture, which showed Wyatt and five other guys posing, arms slung over each others' shoulders, smiles as wide as could be. "Jess actually took that," Wyatt continued, sending Rufus and Lucy spinning back around to face their friend. "Right before we shipped out to Syria.

"Two weeks after, bam. This frickin' day. Hadn't even gotten over it the first time…then had everyone in my face telling me how sorry they were."

Wyatt dropped his head against the bar with a loud thunk. "I hate May."

"I can see why." After a pause, Rufus raised two fingers in the air and, a moment later, Ryan dropped off two more drinks.

Lucy stared at Rufus in confusion. "Are you sure this is—"

"Trust me," he said, holding out one of the shots to her.

Lucy accepted after barely a second's hesitation. She had trusted Rufus with far greater over the last few months and he'd delivered on every account. She didn't expect this to be any different, despite the fact that plying an already drunk Wyatt with more alcohol didn't seem like the best idea.

Rufus nudged Wyatt until the soldier lifted his head. "A toast," the pilot began, holding out his glass and clinking it against Lucy's. "To the honored dead, those who didn't make it back."

"Here here," Wyatt cheered as he waved his glass in the proximity of theirs before throwing back the rest of his drink. Rufus and Lucy were quick to follow suit.

"You think we can go now?" Rufus asked after a minute as he slid Wyatt's empty glass away from him. "A lot of people are worried about you."

Wyatt mumbled something incoherent but allowed himself to be pushed away from the bar. As soon as he was standing, he slipped out of Rufus' and Lucy's grip and saluted the picture with much more hand-eye coordination that anyone in the room would have thought possible.

He sagged almost as quickly and Rufus and Lucy were at his side again, helping him stay upright.

"C'mon man," Rufus said while Lucy rubbed wide circles onto his back. "Let's get you home."

* * *

 **A/N: I couldn't find any sort of timeline for the Syria mission and when it was in relation to Jessica's death, so I placed it before. Please let me know if that is canonically incorrect.**

 **A/N 2: Let's not forget what Memorial Day is truly about: like Rufus says, it's honoring those who never made it home. May they never be forgotten.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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